Surrender
by The Sea On the Moon
Summary: Holmes has finally renounced his habit at the doctor's request, but Watson isn't just going to watch him suffer either. Warnings: Slash.


Author's Note: So maybe it's just me that feels like this needs more fleshing out, but it was an idea that took root and would just not let go. Any reviews will be appreciated.

* * *

"_I don't wanna feel like this tomorrow _

_I don't wanna live like this today _

_Make me feel better _

_I wanna feel better _

_Stay with me here now _

_And never surrender"_

- Skillet "Never Surrender"

* * *

Holmes squeezed the arm of the settee until his knuckles were white. His jaw was firmly clenched and he struggled not to give into the temptations. He had sworn enough was enough. He was going to keep his promise to his friend if it killed him. Not because of the medical consequences the doctor had listed a hundred times, but because he cared about the desires of his friend. To realize the way his addiction was plaguing Watson's mind and becoming the source of nightmares was the reason he was giving it up, and he did not want to waver now.

The retired army surgeon looked up from the paper he had been reading and his eyes narrowed, silently voicing his worry about his friend.

"I'm fine." The protest was supposed to sound assuring, but he knew the voice that said the words spoke anything but confidence in the statement.

Watson walked over to the settee and sat beside the agitated man, holding out a hand to him. Holmes gave him a confused look, then went ahead and put his hand in Watson's palm. To his surprise, his Boswell started gently pressing his thumb against the palm of the detective's hand and running it in circles to gently massage it.

Holmes was stiff with shock at the somewhat intimate gesture from his companion and he stared at the doctor who seemed to be pointedly ignoring Holmes's piercing gaze as he kept his eyes focused on the hand his thumbs were kneading.

"Relax Holmes. This won't have the same effect if you sit there stiff as a suit of armor." Watson admonished with a bit of a chuckle behind his voice.

For no reason the amateur detective felt a flash of irritation. "I have been trying to relax for several minutes." He hissed. He instantly regretted the harsh tone he was using and frowned inwardly. "My apologies Watson. You did not warrant such a tone from me."

"No offense was taken Holmes. I know you are suffering. I merely meant to give you some diversion and relieve some of the tension you have." Came the reply as the rhythmic circulation ceased and the speaker moved back.

Automatically Holmes gripped the retreating hand again and his sharp gray eyes seemed to plead with the doctor. "Please, don't stop." He whispered. Now that it had stopped, he realized how soothing the motion of Watson's fingers had been as they ran over his palm. He offered his hand back and Watson gave him a half-smile as he took it.

"Of course my friend." Watson said as he began the rhythmic motion again.

He began at the top of Holmes' wrist and began slowly moving up and out until he'd reached the edges on either side near the thumb and an inch below the pinky. Then he slowly pushed his thumbs closer together until they were nearly touching before moving them back down towards the wrist. He continued to retrace the same circle a few more times before changing directions so he was pulling from the center outwards. Then using his thumb in small circles he rubbed the base directly beneath each finger in turn. First rotating clockwise, then counterclockwise. Then he slowly moved his thumb and forefinger up from the base along the side of Holmes' pinky towards the top before moving back down. Then he used his forefinger to brace the bottom of the finger while his thumb began moving up the inside of the finger in small circles. Once at the top, he began going down again. He used the same method on each of the five digits.

Holmes took a deep breath and settled back contentedly as Watson turned his attention to the wrist. "Thank you, doctor."

"No need to thank me. People have known of the medical benefits of massages for centuries."

The consulting detective did not know how to respond. Was Watson treating him simply as a patient? Or was he seen as something to be cured? He did not deny the amazing results of the 'treatment', but something in him wanted to believe this wasn't just the doctor side of Watson showing itself. Holmes did not want to believe this was normal or routine. Did Watson prescribe this often then? Was it just a chore to him?

"Not that I've had much practice since medical school." Watson said. "Only used it a few times to keep bedridden patients' blood flowing to extremities."

Holmes did not deny the joy that brought him. To know he was receiving some kind of special treatment shouldn't have brought him so much pleasure, but it did.

"Will you switch with me?" Watson asked.

Holmes, lost in thought for a moment, did not catch Watson's meaning for a moment. Watson wanted him to return the favor? Holmes had never learned how to massage or if he had he had conveniently forgotten it because when would he need to know it? Until this moment it wasn't necessary. How would he even begin?

The hesitation had probably shown on his face because a moment later, Watson clarified his meaning. "It would be hard for me to work on the other hand from this side."

"Oh! Of course!" Holmes said, springing up to oblige his friend and moving around to sit on the other end of the settee. Watson scooted over to give him room and Holmes proffered his hand.

"I take it my pathetic attempt to relax you is helping?" The doctor asked.

"It helps a great deal. I would not call it pathetic either. For the purpose it works rather well." Holmes encouraged.

"Well I wanted to help. I hope you know though I think no less of you no matter what your choice on the matter is." Watson said.

That was how the subject of the drug use had been referred to as of late. The exact words were carefully avoided when the subject was touched on at all, which was rare. Watson seemed worried about bringing it up at all.

"My choice to quit is not because I worried what you thought of me Doctor. Nor do I blame you for cautioning me against the drugs. The choice to quit was mine and mine alone. I hold no ill will against you. I appreciate you help and support, but do not feel as though you were forcing me. I wanted to, if it meant giving you piece of mind." Holmes quickly assured him.

Watson blushed. "Holmes nightmares are just that - nightmares. I care for you, so it is only natural that my subconscious would choose to use you as a victim in my darkest dreams."

"Why do we have nightmares?" The detective mused aloud, his voice slipping into that airy tone that he used when his mind was being dragged off on a tangent. "What good does it do our mind to rob us of peaceful sleep in exchange for such horrors?"

Watson was silent for a moment. He had been plagued by nightmares that stemmed from his days serving in the in army for several years, but lately the subjects of those dreams had taken quite a different turn. Now instead of the faces of soldiers, it was Holmes that was being dangled before his mind's eye. Since their late night conversation almost three weeks ago, things had changed between them in a way the doctor could never have expected. The usually emotionless and stolid detective had dropped the mask and allowed Watson to see within the interior of his heart. He found Holmes was just as human as the rest deep in his heart. He was not as impassive as Watson had first assumed.

After the initial shock had worn off, things had settled to something more comfortable between them. The relationship was not pushed beyond the occasional brush of their lips. Watson had a harder time of playing normal than Holmes. Mrs. Hudson and any visitors had not shown any signs of suspicions as the pair of them interacted with their usual level of friendliness. They had decided to never branch into the use of familiar names with one another, to prevent any slips that might happen in company.

The subtle effects that their relationship was having were completed concealed. They could trust no one with the truth of their feelings. Being described as an 'unnatural perversion' or 'abominations' wouldn't cause them any great pains, but to be thrust to the edge of society would seriously interrupt both of their careers. While they both knew their love meant more to them than their work, they knew they would be happier being able to continue the careers they enjoyed as well as carry the love they felt for one another.

"Watson?" The name was whispered with a bit of surprised in his tone.

The retired army surgeon realized his nimble fingers were fighting the buttons on Holmes' cuff to allow more access to the arm he was working on. Watson stared blankly at the button he had already undone without realizing what he was doing and froze. What was he implying? His intention had been entirely innocent from the start, but it was beginning to look like he wasn't just soothing a drug withdrawal. Just how much further did he want this to go?

"Lets retreat to your room." Holmes said, seeming entirely calm about the situation, though his friend's heart hammered loudly. Watson's room was up another flight of stairs, putting as much distance between them and Mrs. Hudson as they could.

Watson meant to protest, but Holmes was already at the door and holding it open invitingly. The doctor rose and followed him out and led the way up the stairs and into his bedroom. It was relatively neat, though he was falling out of the habits he had obtained from his days in the military. He didn't feel embarrassed to have Holmes here, since it was not the detectives first visit, but the circumstances were much different then times before.

Holmes removed his waistcoat and draped it over the foot of the bed, revealing the straps of his suspenders that ran up over is shoulders. He was soon shrugging those down as his fingers worked the buttons loose of his shirt. "Where do you want me?" Holmes asked.

Watson indicated the bed with a wave and timidly went around to the other side, his eyes glued to the floor for a moment. When he next looked up, Holmes had completely revealed the flesh of his top half, leaving his suspenders dangling down by his thighs. Watson stared at the pale skin over his chest and felt his heart flutter. How could he allow such thoughts that were racing through his mind? Holmes was suffering, and the usually focused mind of the doctor was rushing off on tangents he had not dared to let it wander before. Holmes was not the first man he had seen naked from the waist up, but probably the first that had willing shed his clothes without the expectation of a medical examination. They both moved slowly to the bed, their eyes locked.

"I only meant to relax you." Watson said.

"And you are doing a wonderful job of it." Holmes replied with a whisper.

Watson realized Holmes was not in fact mistaking his intention at all, but merely trying to prolong the pleasure of the massage by allowing for other outlets.

Holmes sat down on the edge of the bed, his back to Watson. Watson climbed on the other side of the bed and knelt behind him, his hands gently coming down on Holmes' shoulders. The touch made Holmes shiver for a moment, and Watson could not deny his own body reacting strongly to the touch. After taking a steadying breath, Watson began kneading the shoulders gently with his thumbs. Holmes hummed contentedly, making Watson relax a bit more. His thumbs rolled in circles along the shoulder plates and then met along the spine before trailing up the neck. Holmes instinctively lowered his head, stretching out his neck to make it more accessible. Watson moved his thumbs up slightly past the hairline before fanning out and down along the side of the neck and back to the shoulders. He used his fingers and palms to knead the tops of the shoulder again before bringing his thumbs into the spine again and repeating the process again.

"Out of practice?" Holmes asked with a disbelieving snort.

"I am." Watson insisted.

"Indeed? When you were in practice your patient's must've flocked in complaining of back pains." The jest served to encourage Watson as well as make him smile.

"Like I said, I haven't done this much. Just a trick one of my instructors taught me." Watson said.

"Well, I'd make a very happy patient."

"That's a first. Might you be paying me this time?" Watson retorted with a smirk.

Holmes's ears reddened. "Well I - "

"It was a joke, my dear friend." The doctor chuckled. He began to move his hands downward to focus on the middle of his companion's back. He could feel the tension easing away from the muscles gradually as his thumbs and fingers worked. Holmes was bending over his knees, allowing Watson an easier time of working on that section of his back, but Watson knew that position was not going to be comfortable. "Here, lay down." Watson said, edging back a bit to allow his friend more room.

Holmes seemed to respond with some hesitation, but was soon laying facedown on the pillow at the head of his Boswell's bed. Watson pondered what position to take. The obvious choice was to simply straddle Holmes so he had a perfect angle from which to work, but the thought of that particular situation made Watson uneasy.

Instead he settled himself next to Holmes and worked on him from the side, still using his digits in small circles to loosen the muscles in the detective's back. It was awhile before either of them spoke again, and Watson was so lost in thought that the voice surprised him momentarily.

"Could you itch that left shoulder Watson?" The voice was slightly muffled by the pillow, but it sounded very serene.

Watson obliged him by running his nails up and down the shoulder blade multiple times, eliciting a sigh from Holmes as the itch abated. Then he continued to trail his nails up and down the whole length of Holmes' back, causing him to tremble again and Watson froze.

"Sorry." He said.

"No, that feels good." Holmes said, propping himself up on one arm and looking up at Watson. "Thank you." He whispered.

"I can continue if you would like." Watson said.

"I will not deny that I would enjoy it, but I did not mean to monopolize your afternoon." Holmes said.

Watson shook his head. "I'm enjoying spending time with you, my love." He whispered, putting his hand on Holmes' cheek. In response, the detective closed his eyes and Watson saw him shiver again.

"Cold?" Watson asked, fearing the room was too chilly.

"No." Holmes said, pushing himself up even further to close the gap between their lips. The kiss was just as dizzying as the first, but they had been practicing more since then. The intimate exploration had both of them moaning with delight as their tongues met and circled. Watson pulled back slightly to nip Holmes' top lip painlessly with his teeth. In response, the detective ran his own set of nails down Watson's neck, making him shiver uncontrollably. They parted, but didn't back away, preferring to keep their foreheads touching as they filled their starving lungs for a moment without speaking. Their eyes remained locked, making silent declarations of affection and dedication.

"Payment enough?" Holmes finally asked, his mouth curving up in a smirk.

Watson laughed. "I was only teasing."

"I know." Holmes said, letting his sore arm give way to flop back down in the pillow. Watson resumed the massage, though Holmes was now quite comfortable. The cravings for drugs had been forgotten as Watson's hands put his body to rest. Being without mental work was usually one of the worst things Holmes could imagine, but as a he lay there accepting Watson's ministrations he supposed he could become very agreeable to spending some days just like this. It was not as though the time was wasted, so long as they could enjoy the pleasure of one another's company.

"Thank you for believing in me." Holmes said.

"Pardon?" Watson didn't understand Holmes' meaning.

"You don't give up on me, even though I sometimes question whether I can get through these withdraws. Just promise you won't let me surrender." Holmes asked.

"Of course, if that is your desire." Watson said.

"It is." The voice sounded confident this time. "I am certain."

"I will never give up on you."


End file.
